Waiting For You
by AshenMoon42
Summary: Nineteen waits in the lives of Severus and Lily. (one-sided Snily) (I actually hate Snily but wrote it anyway) (mild Jily)


**My first Snily fic! I don't even ship Snily, so there's nothing **_**overly**_ **romantic at all. Why did I write this? I dunno. It's been fun. **

_**Macrophobia - the fear of long waits.**_

**.**

**WAITING FOR YOU**

**.**

_I_

_Waiting for you to notice_

* * *

Severus sits by the tree again. The leaves are unfurling above him, emerging in the refreshing spring breeze. The meadow is green, dotted with daisies and a hundred flowers he can't name. Everything is green: the leaves and the grass and the metal of the swings and _her eyes_.

He is waiting for her to notice.

He wants her to face him so he can see those eyes better; he wants her to smile at him so that her face shines as it did earlier.

Severus is watching Lily Evans. He doesn't think it strange at all, but he knows the boys on his street would think that. They say everything he does is strange. Besides, she's pretty, and she's kind, and she's _like him_. That's all he wants - someone who understands him.

He wonders if she knows yet. What she is.

You'd think it would be obvious, but muggles don't tend to notice these things.

He sits for hours watching as she and her sister play on the swings. Her hair is a banner of flame behind her, twirling through the air, floating around her face. Severus longs to sit on the swing next to hers, but it's occupied. Her sister - boring and plain and muggle - takes that space, competing against her to swing the highest.

And then it happens. The girl with the fiery hair flies off the swing, sailing, soaring, whizzing through the air, landing softly on a pillow of flowers.

Her sister stares.

Severus smiles.

And the girl - the pretty girl with the emerald green eyes - looks at him, and she shines with magic.

He didn't even have to wait for very long.

* * *

_II_

_Waiting for you to explain_

* * *

"Where did that come from, Sev?"

Lily frowns at Severus' face. An ugly purple bruise has bloomed on his pale skin, and he won't meet her eye.

"I tripped," he says, and she knows he's lying.

She leans forwards and prods it, ignoring the way his face scrunches in pain. "Into a fist?"

He rips away from her, leaving Lily with her arm extended where she had been touching his face. She frowns, worried. "Sev…"

"Look, Lily, it's none of your business."

They're under the tree where Lily had first seen him, and she's standing over his crouched figure, and she can't help but compare him to a kicked puppy.

"It is!" Her face flushes in anger, "It is my business if my best friend is getting hurt!"

She ignored the way he puffs up at the words 'best friend'. Other than that, he stays silent and doesn't move.

"Was it your father? Did he hurt you?"

This time, he looks up into her eyes, and she looks back into his. They're black, like pits of oil, and a little too big for his face. She has spent the last year accepting his help as he teaches her of the wizarding world, and she decides it's her turn to help him.

She waits for him to explain.

"Yes," he says. Severus starts to cry, the tears dripping down his cheeks, and she sits beside him, putting her head on his shoulder. "Yes, he did."

"I'm so sorry," she whispered, rubbing circles on his back, "He shouldn't do that. It's … it's not right."

Sev doesn't reply, just buries his tears in her thick red hair. She wonders how anyone could be so cruel to do that to someone as innocent as Severus, to turn him into this sobbing mess.

But he's told her now, and she can comfort him the best she can. Lily hopes she will be able to help.

She hardly had to wait at all.

* * *

_III_

_Waiting for you to forget her_

* * *

Severus often wonders why Lily deals with Petunia. All the older girl seems to do is cry and swoon over boys and yell cruel things. Why does Lily care what she thinks?

They're going to Hogwarts in three days, and Petunia is livid about it. She has made Lily cry already, calling her a 'freak'.

Severus has started waiting for Lily to forget her.

They sit on the swings - Sev and Lily - and they read the letter they found. It's from Dumbledore to Petunia, of all people, and it isn't what he expected.

It's an apology to her, to say that she can't go to Hogwarts. She's a muggle, after all.

But why would Petunia want to the magical school anyway, with all her mocking towards magic itself, her newfound hatred of her own sister?

Lily can't see it, but Severus can, because his eyes are not clouded by sisterhood. He can see that she is jealous, and she only seems to hate Lily to protect herself. Jealousy is so fickle, he thinks. Trust a muggle like her to be plagued by it.

He doesn't tell his best friend any of this, even if she would rather know. A selfish part of himself doesn't want her to love Petunia, because that's another thing to take Lily away from him.

Telling her he has to go, he hops off the swing (with a last wave to Lily) and heads home.

And if he wants Lily to forget her sister, he knows it's a long wait.

* * *

_IV_

_Waiting for you to try_

* * *

"See ya, Snivellus!" Is the last call of the boys as Lily shuts the door.

"Let's find another carriage, shall we?" She asks, turning to her friend.

They do, soon enough. The only other person in the carriage is a thin boy (a first year, just like them), with an angry scar across the bridge of his nose and soft amber eyes.

Severus is seething, she can see. Lily can almost feel the anger rolling off him as he stares out the window. She wonders, sometimes, how a boy of only eleven could hold all of that rage inside him - how was it possible that all that had accumulated in that time?

But she ignores it, because he is his friend, and he is quite sweet when he tries, and she would never abandon him. He has always been lonely, and she doesn't want that to continue.

What Lily really wants is for him to _try._ She waits, the whole journey, for him to speak, for him to brush off the stupid words of some arrogant boys.

She talks to the other boy (Remus, he introduces himself) about the school, what they're hoping for. He's a half blood, and knows a little of Hogwarts.

Lily can't help but notice he's much easier to talk to than Severus. Not even once, in the seven-hour train ride, does Sev join the conversation.

She silently begs him to try and make another friend, to try and be welcoming. She want him to realise that those cruel words mean nothing if he doesn't let them get to him.

But if she wants him to try, she's going to have to wait forever.

* * *

_V_

_Waiting for you to come to me_

* * *

He sits, Slytherin green robes hanging off his skinny frame, alone at the breakfast table. He is staring across the room, where Lily sits in fiery red, talking and laughing to her new friends.

How quickly she has forgotten him.

Severus waits for her to notice him, like that day by the tree, and he waits for her to come and sit with him, where she belongs.

How can she prefer the company of girls she has only just met to his, with years of friendship behind it?

There's chatter all around him, but he's in his own silent spot, staring at her lion's mane of Gryffindor red hair. From this distance, there's no way to see her eyes - eyes that are Slytherin green.

The distance between them is painful, because Severus has never had any other friends.

After a minute, she sees him, and beckons.

_She wants him to go to her._

But he can't. He can feel the weight of Slytherin expectation. What will they think of him if he goes to the Gryffindor table? If he goes to talk to a mudblood (however friendly she really is)?

He shakes his head and beckons _her, _because surely that's better than him going there.

She shakes her own head sadly (he can't help but notice her hair, drifting behind her like a tongue of fire as she does so), and turns back to her _new_ friends, and her food, her table decked in taunting red.

He still waits for her to change her mind and come over, but he knows she won't.

* * *

_VI_

_Waiting for you to help_

* * *

She's confused by it all. The castle is terrible and wonderful and awfully confusing.

A month into the school year and she's still overwhelmed.

How does it work? Do moving portraits have thoughts of their own, or are they connected to the person they're of? If a photograph is taken showing a true scene, does it show that over and over, or does it react to the things around it as the portraits do? What's the point of moving staircases? Is there a map of the secret passageways? What's the floo, and a portkey? How does the money system work? What's the statute of secrecy and apparition, and … and _everything_!

She feels terrible, like she's a baby, and everyone else is grown up. That people laugh at her because she doesn't know a thing about the magical world.

Lily waits for him to help.

She walks beside Severus, and he is talking about potions (his newfound skill), and she is wondering what mudblood means. Someone had called her that earlier, and she was confused. It sounded offensive.

Lily interrupts his rant, "What does mudblood mean?" she asks.

He stops, alarmed. "What? Where did you hear that?"

"I … I don't know." She doesn't know why she lies, "Read it somewhere."

"It's … it's not a good word, Lily." he says, and continues walking up the corridor in silence.

She frowns. He never explains. Severus never explains anything to her, not really. He gives half-truths and vague descriptions and it's _infuriating_. Can he not understand that this is all so new to her, so alien?

She'll just have to wait a bit longer.

* * *

_VII_

_Waiting for you to accept it_

* * *

"Who did it?" Lily asks.

They are staring at the words in front of them. Lily thinks it is an atrocity. Sev thinks it is brilliant. Bold and loud and unafraid. He just wishes Lily doesn't have to see it. He knows it hurts her, even if she hides it.

_MUDBLOOD_, it says, in muddy red paint on the wall of the great hall, each letter stretching twenty feet high. _Mudbloods_, the other Slytherins whisper. _Mudbloods_, say the books stacked high in the common room.

Red like blood. Thick, muddy blood (_like Lily's, _whispers a voice in the back of his mind.).

"Mudblood," Lily says, the look on her face just … sad. Sad and upset. "Who would write that? It's disgusting!"

He knows exactly who wrote it, and at what time and with who and even the brand of paint. He knows they flew up on their Nimbus 1780 and laughed as they dragged the brush across the bricks. He knows the sound of that laugh and the other laughs that echoed after it, and he knows how beautiful the feeling of being part of something was in that room as he laughed and laughed and laughed along with them.

Severus stays silent.

"Sev?" She sounds suspicious, as if she _knows_.

Severus shrugged, "I don't know." It's probably the first time he's flat-out lied to her, and she knows it. He can see the familiar wildcat hissing behind those emerald eyes.

"Yes, you do."

"I-"

"It was those friends of yours, wasn't it?" She steps forward and he can't even appreciate how close they are, "It was them. _They _did it! How could they?"

"Look, Lily: my friends aren't yours. You can't tell me not to be friends with the people I sleep in the same room with every night!"

"No, I can't. But I can tell you that it isn't worth it. If they're trying to make people miserable, you shouldn't join in. Not unless you believe it."

Tension. More tension than he's ever felt with Lily.

"Of course not! I don't believe it."

"Good," she says, but there are tears in her eyes. "Don't let them make you. Please, Sev. Don't let them carry you into that."

They are carrying him. They are carrying him deep into the heart of all that business, and he loves it. Being with boys who have status and money … it makes him feel like he has his own value. He cannot break that, he couldn't bear it.

Lily can't understand any of it, and she never will. For her to accept that his friends are his and hers are hers, he's going to have to wait and wait and wait.

* * *

_VIII_

_Waiting for you to be the better person_

* * *

"Yeah, you and your little sidekicks going to run and tell McGonagall? '_Oh, mummy! He gave me a funny look!'_"

"Shut up, Severus. They're my _friends_. Not that you'd know, seeing as you have none."

A bark of laughter. More petty insults and mocking and nastiness.

Lily wonders if it's impossible that the just ignore each other for once.

She rounds the corner to find a familiar scene: Severus and Potter standing face-to-face, with Avery and Mulciber watching from a distance, unimpressed, Black edging closer, Pettigrew laughing his head off, and Remus Lupin trying to melt into the wall.

"Potter! Sev!" Lily snaps, "What are you doing?"

"None of your business, Evans," Potter says, fake pleasantness plastered across his face.

"It is if these stupid fights are getting in my way _every day._"

Muciber snarls, "Piss off, Mudblood. No-one wants you here."

Lily feels a little part of her shrivel in despair. There was nothing worse than the feeling of not belonging. Nothing worse than being told that.

Black immediately glares right back at him, "Take it back," he says, "You take that back, Mulciber!"

"Don't you dare use that ugly word," Potter says, horrified.

Lily wishes they wouldn't jump to her rescue. She is strong and capable - she can do it herself! she doesn't need a stuck-up, arrogant pureblood to do it for her.

But she can't. Not really. It's at these moments, when everyone is against her and Sev won't say a thing, that she feels utterly alone. The self-proclaimed 'Marauders' want her out. Mulciber and Avery want her out. Remus hasn't the heart to scold his friends.

Severus is silent.

She just wants him to be the better man, to stop fighting fruitlessly. She wants him to be on her side, to stand up for his own beliefs, not Avery and Mulciber's.

But he won't. She will keep waiting but she knows it won't happen.

* * *

_IX_

_Waiting for you to understand_

* * *

Severus is tied in knots. Or maybe not. Maybe the knots are all around him, ready to reel him in if he wobbles. Maybe he's imagining it and this shouldn't be as hard as it is.

In any case, Severus has been putting up with this since first year and now he's in fourth and he is done. He needs her to know.

He tries to tell her, but his tongue is too heavy. He tries to tell her, but his mouth won't open. He tries to tell her, but he doesn't know how.

"_You can't be friends with the mudblood any more_," Selwyn (seventh year prefect and Death Eater to-be) had said. "_If you want to be one of us, she has got to go."_

And his heart is growing colder as it burns for Lily. Because the choice is between the sweetness of true friendship and the power of the Dark Lord.

Severus knows which one will last longer, but every single time, he betrays himself and keeps quiet.

They're still friends, and every happy second with her is agony.

He wants her to know. He can't tell her.

So he's walking the tightrope, knots at every metre or so, and the rope is fraying. It won't hold his weight for much longer, and he might slip even before that happens.

Which way will he fall? Can't he ever get to the other side? Why does he have to always bloody _choose_?

He wants her to understand the bed of snakes he sleeps in, but there's no point waiting any more. He has to do it himself.

* * *

_X_

_Waiting for you to choose_

* * *

He's spending more and more time with his housemates. The ones with the feral smiles and cold voices and dark brooding eyes.

She knows. She watches. She waits for him to decide.

Every so often, she'll ask about his other friends and he'll answer with a grunt or a shrug or a quick change of subject. Every so often, she goes to talk to _her_ other friends, just to see how he likes that. Every so often, she lets herself doubt.

Their relationship isn't what it was before. No innocent laughter and curious looks. It's all arguments and secrets and that terrible doubt. Lily finds herself not enjoying his company, not liking the looks the other Slytherins give her.

Sometimes, Lily finds herself scared.

Scared of his other friends. Scared of him. Scared of the muggleborn haters who call her the nasty names and still get away with it.

"Sev?" She asks one day, walking up to her friend and his friends.

He turns, and for a moment, there's a look of panic in his eyes.

"We were going to revise for the history test?" She prompts.

His friends are with him, and their disgust is clear in their eyes. They snarl and snicker to themselves, baring teeth and frowning at her. "_Mudblood"_, she hears one mutter.

"I … I'm busy." Sev says, trying to hide behind his curtains of dark hair.

"Well, maybe later?" Lily asks, because he won't let him get away with this again. He seems ashamed to have her as a friend, and she won't let him do that. She doesn't want to be a secret.

"I … okay. Maybe."

Lily nods, smiles as pleasantly as she can bear at the other glaring Slytherins, and walks off.

She waits for him to make the right choice and call after her. He doesn't.

* * *

_XI_

_Waiting for you to mention it_

* * *

They're fifteen and someone's organised a charity ball to raise money for spattergroit victims.

He wants to go, he really does.

He wants to ask Lily.

But he's scared. He's more scared than he's ever been in his life. More scared than when his father first raised his hand to strike him. More scared than when he stepped on the Hogwarts Express. More scared than when he considered leaving Lily and their friendship.

Now, for him at least, it seems like more than that. More than friendship. Surely Lily can feel it too? This … _burning_ in his chest must be in hers as well.

He waits for her to mention it to him. To ask whether he's going. _Then _he'll say yes, and would you like to come with me?

It's three days away, and she has shown no interest. She's talking about mermaid rights and how barbaric their treatment is. Severus doesn't care about mermaid rights. He cares about a dance with Lily.

It's two days away and they're in the library. She still hasn't mentioned it. Lily asks whether he's done the potions homework, and what was his fourth point because she can't think of anything else to write. Severus takes a second to focus on the fourth point of his essay; he's too busy focusing on the image spinning through his mind: the two of them, in dapper clothing, dancing through the Great Hall.

It's tomorrow, and she hasn't said a thing. Something seems _off_ about her, but he barely notices. He thinks of her hand enclosed in his, a green dress flowing to her heels, a sparkling smile on her face. She is talking again, about a cave she and her sister got lost in when they went to the Peak District last year. Severus can't spare a thought for the Peak District right now - his head is stuck in dreamland.

It's this evening. Should he ask, or is she no longer interested? Should he ask, or has she accepted going with someone else? Should he ask, or has she given up on his indecision?

Severus doesn't ask. That evening, he hears the music blasting from inside the Great Hall. He hears music and chatter and laughter. Walking past on his way back to the dungeons, he looks in, just for a brief second. To see what he missed.

He stops.

In the middle of the dance floor, in a glittering, floor-length, Gryffindor-red dress, is Lily Evans. She's in the arms of Edgar Bones, a dashing Ravenclaw who makes all the girls swoon. They dance, twirling around, and she's smiling. Smiling the way Severus wanted her to smile at _him._

He returns to the Slytherin common room, locks himself in the empty dormitory, and sits on his bed. Curled into a ball, he lets tears carve down his cheeks, feels himself start to shake.

He waited for her to mention it. He waited too long.

* * *

_XII_

_Waiting for you to change_

* * *

Lily is smiling giddily. She feels on top of the world, like her heart is soaring, flying higher than the birds. He had complimented her dress and she had admired his suit. He had offered her drinks and she had laughed at his jokes. He and asked her to dance and she had happily obliged, spinning on the dance floor in the arms of Edgar Bones, who looked at her as if she was beautiful, precious. And that was such a good feeling now when she thought of it, that she was worth dancing with to someone like Edgar.

The comforting atmosphere of the library seems to recede, and the fluttering in her stomach dies when Severus walks in, a glower across his features, black eyes boring into her.

Her smile fades. "Sev?"

He doesn't say anything, just starts taking books out, looking resolutely away from her.

"Sev? What's wrong?"

He looks at her again. In his eyes … is that _hatred?_

"Tell me."

He frowns, tapping a finger against his leg. "You were meant to go with me."

Pause. "What?"

"The ball. You were meant to go with me."

Lily looks at him incredulously, feeling something rising in the pit of her stomach. "You wanted to go, did you?"

"Yes!" He practically growls, recognising her anger.

"Well you should have asked!" She yells. It came all of a sudden, the great need to SHOUT. The entirety of the library's occupants glare at her for breaking the fragile silence, some looking alarmed at the noise. Madam Pince pokes out from behind a stack of books.

"_Shhhhh!" _She hisses, scrunching her face and starting to swoop towards them like a vulture.

Lily doesn't care. Never has she allowed herself to be angry like this at Sev. She has blamed it on his unstable self-esteem. She has blamed it on his home life. She has blamed it on the bad influence of his friends. Never, _ever_, has she exploded like this. The rage makes her feel strong, her mind like a knife, her bones like iron, her muscles like rock. She sharpens the knife against years of painful waits. "If you wanted to go with me, you should've ASKED! NEVER have you just ASKED my opinion. I wouldn't have gone with him if I knew you were interested! You have to TELL me, Sev. I AM TIRED OF WAITING!"

They're kicked out of the library, and they stand in the corridor. Lily looks at him challengingly. The rush is still there, bubbling in her gut, making her heart beat like a war drum.

Severus looks shocked. _Well, he should be._ She feels nothing but satisfaction. Lily has spent her life waiting for him, and she is sick of it. Maybe, this time, she can get the message across, and he'll change. Maybe, this time, she won't have to wait any longer.

* * *

_XIII_

_Waiting for you to realise_

* * *

_I love you._ The words hover on his lips. They're painfully true.

All they've spoken to each other are lies, about their friendship, about their other friendships. Severus lies that he wants to be a potioneer (Death Eater, he says inside). He lies that his friends don't mind about them anymore (_you have to let go of that mudblood bitch, Snape. She's only holding you back._ That's what they really say.).

And they're growing apart. No, she can't meet him in the library - she's going to Hogsmeade with her _other _friends. No, they can't hang out in the courtyard - she's going for a walk with _Mary_, or _Marlene._ They can't meet up to talk tonight - she has a prefect patrol with _Remus_. They don't understand each other anymore. More arguments have occured since the charity ball - proper, shouting, storming-off arguments … just not quite so public. What is happening? The threads holding them together are fraying from years of abuse; the childhood naïveté that meant they could be friends is lost; age-old promises are broken without a thought.

_I love you._ Can it be true? In that way?

Yes. Yes, it really can. He loves the red hair that falls in waves down her shoulders, the bottle-green eyes that glow above soft cheeks.

And he wants to tell her. _You have to TELL me_, she had said. He will. He will.

They're in one of their secret spots, a small room on the third floor hidden behind a sliding wall that only opens to the words, _pickled grapefruit._ Inside, there's a sofa and a table, and it's perfect for studying in peace. OWLs are approaching and the stress is a physical force pushing the fifth years (apart from idiots like Potter and Black) into study groups.

Her fiery hair falls over her face and he wants to push the curl behind her ear.

She sucks on her bottom lip while trying to recall names of goblin kings and he has the urge to kiss her senseless (not that he knows how).

They study for at least another hour and Severus can't concentrate.

_I love you._ Is this what love does?

She looks up at him (he pretends he wasn't staring) and smiles tiredly, "I think that's enough for today. I'm going to fall asleep soon!"

He wants to hold her as she sleeps.

Lily looks at him curiously, but doesn't say anything. _Maybe she can feel it too._ He wants her to realise what he feels.

"Well, see you later!"

He's going to say it. It balances on the end of his tongue, about to take the leap.

Her hand is on the door handle.

He stands.

She's opening the door.

Steps forwards towards her.

But she's moving away.

"I love you," he says, but she's already gone.

* * *

_XIV_

_Waiting for you to apologise_

* * *

A knife has punctured her heart. She had thought they were friends.

_Mudblood._

She used to think that, maybe, he was different. That he doesn't believe their words. That he doesn't repeat them.

How can she have been so ignorant?

_Mudblood._

It hurts. Of course it hurts. Is this heartbreak?

She knows it was more for him; she knows he loved her in a different way. She can't feel that. To her, it's - was - friendship. Warm, soft friendship … turned cold by waiting for far too long.

And she's waited for nothing. Nothing has come of waiting for him to change, because his friends have changed him too, in ways Lily cannot hope to undo.

_Mudblood._

The moment that left his lips, she knew it was over. With one word, everything they had has cracked in two.

Now, she looks back and wonders whether it'll ever be the same. Wonders whether their two jagged halves can be glued back together. Maybe, she thinks, maybe if he apologises properly. Maybe if he cries like he made her cry.

She waits and waits and waits.

No. Days, weeks, months later, he has done nothing. He has begged and said shallow words that mean nothing at all.

Maybe this is for the best. Maybe she shouldn't wait for the impossible.

* * *

_XV_

_Waiting for you to come back_

* * *

Just like that first day back in Cokeworth, he is watching her. He is waiting for her to approach and mend everything, because he doesn't know what he can do anymore. Maybe she's ready now. Maybe everything will be okay.

Surely one word can't have all that power?

_Mudblood_, a voice (sounding suspiciously like his own) taunts, _it might as well be a curse._

She looks expectant, like she's waiting for someone. He's seen her like this a thousand times, waiting by the dungeons for him to come out in the morning, waiting in the library for their weekly study sessions. Now, by the lake, her Gryffindor scarf whipped around by the wind, her beautiful hair plaited back away from her face.

Is she waiting for him?

So strong is that hope that he even steps forward, out of the shadow of the beech tree. He opens his mouth to call out-

"Lily!" a voice says. The voice is not Severus'. It's deeper, stronger, brighter.

She grins and Severus almost lets himself believe she's smiling at him.

But he turns to where her eyes are fixed and feels like the world is crushing him. Because there is James Potter, with his ridiculously messy hair and stupid dopey grin, a quidditch-playing, prank-pulling idiot who Severus _hates_. Who Lily hates too.

Hat_ed_, he guesses.

And Lily is smiling, her mouth so wide and full of joy, an expression she hasn't given Sev for years. Directed at James Potter. It's as if she's doing this on purpose to insult him ... maybe she is.

And he misses her now. It's not yearning so much as before. More … unfiltered desire. To have that friendship with her again, before it got complicated, before they each made their own friends and drifted far apart until they could hardly recognise each other. Suddenly that wave washed over him and his heart shivered from the cold emptiness, the complete lack of Lily Evans. His fire. His warmth. Gone.

Gone with James Potter.

He almost expects her to slap Potter. Wants her to. Waits for her to.

But he doesn't waste time waiting; there's no use any more.

* * *

_XVI_

_Waiting for you to give up_

* * *

Flowers. Cards. Choked "I'm sorry"s.

Useless. Doesn't he understand she doesn't care anymore?

Flowers won't cover the stench of betrayal that lingered after he used that terrible word. Flowers don't ring around broken friendships. Flowers don't sew together a ripped cloth.

Cards won't make her listen. Cards contain words from hours of thought, and she doesn't want that. She doesn't want measured, thought-out, carefully considered words - she wants proper apologies, from the heart not the mind, from his own mouth.

When they come - the apologies - they're not enough. A whispered "I'm sorry" is not enough. A pleading look is not enough. _Anything_ he does is not enough.

He's taken too long. It's been over a year since he called her a mudblood, and now he had only just started to try. Back then, if he had shouted from the rooftops, if he had wept at her feet, if he had left his Slytherin friends, she would've forgiven him. Now she is fed up. Now she won't take it. She's waited for too long.

They walk along a corridor - she with Mary, he alone behind them - and he is getting closer.

Lily tries to walk faster but Mary doesn't understand. In the end, Severus catches up.

"Lily!" He says. There's something open on his face. He want to apologise.

Again.

"I'm sorry. Please-"

"No. Go away. Give up, Sev." And she speeds up (Mary running to catch up), tearing her arms from where Severus had clutched at it.

Because nothing he tries will be enough now. She understands that he had never been a good friend, even when he had tried.

She's not waiting for him to change any more. She'd just waiting for him to give up.

* * *

_XVII_

_Waiting for you to ask_

* * *

Severus is alone. The other Slytherin boys are down in Hogsmeade but he's lost his letter and no amount of _accio_s will find it. They didn't even consider keeping him company or smuggling him in; they just said 'tough luck' and left.

Maybe, just maybe, he should've stayed with Lily. She would never abandon him. She would stay. She would cheer him up. She would _care_. He doesn't love the Slytherins, but he loves her. _I love you. _He had said it once, but not so she could hear.

He sits in an alcove on a low stone bench, head in hands, wondering what to do for the rest of the day. He has no homework and Madam Pince has hated him from the beginning, so he can't stomach the library right now. The Slytherin Common Room is unpleasant when it's empty, the light from the lake creating a sickly glow. The dormitory is a mess and too dark to have any chance at cheering him up. There's nothing to do apart from sit and brood, which is what he does.

Eventually, voices wander towards him from one end of the corridor he occupies. There are two of them, and for a moment he wonders who would stay inside when they could be outside or at Hogsmeade on such a sunny July afternoon.

Until they come closer and he recognises the voices. Lily and James. Love and hate.

They talk about nothings, like most couples are able to, chatting about the mundane but making it sound appealing. He wishes they wouldn't. He wishes they would just hate each other again. He wishes … he wishes a world of things.

As they pass, James doesn't notice him, but Lily catches his eye and looks for a moment. A beautiful, cracking moment when anything is possible. A scalp-tingling, eye-freezing, tummy-buzzing moment.

He waits for her to ask if he's okay.

Lily walks straight on past, and she is happy without him.

No point. There's no point waiting any more.

* * *

_XVIII_

_Waiting for you to make the right choice_

* * *

Watching the light filter through translucent curtains, the glint of sun in her baby boy's eyes. He lifts a chubby hand through the ray of light, breaking the beam. Beautiful. Monotonous.

The wooden beams above her head aren't charming anymore. The books are read, the radio is battered to an inch of its life, and even Harry is tired of the baby toys. The same sights and smells, every single day, as if her life is a never ending cycle. But it will end, won't it? It has to.

She often wonders whether Severus will ever come back. It's stupid - she knows that - but after weeks holed up in her cottage at Godric's Hollow, she's spent a lot of time thinking.

Lily imagines a life in which Severus never left her. In which he was sorted into Ravenclaw (because as much as he is - _was_ \- her friend, she knows he's not a Gryffindor), or had never made friends with Avery and Mulciber.

She knows it's silly, but after thinking and thinking for days on end, she half expects Severus, smile on his face, to walk up the drive like they'd never fallen out at all. It would be the right choice, she thinks, for him to leave the Death Eaters, even this late in the war. And she would welcome him back, after all this time - of course she would. Because they'd been friends. The best of friends.

Would James accept him too? Or would he hate him again?

Waiting by the window, not knowing why she's doing it at all, wondering if she's finally gone crazy in this little cottage. Waiting and waiting, for a different Severus to knock on the door.

* * *

_XIX_

_Waiting for you to return_

* * *

No-one returns from the dead.

Lily. Oh, his beautiful Lily with fiery hair and a short fuse. A short life.

Dead. Gone. Killed by the Dark Lord. Could he have done something? Done anything?

He had begged and pleaded with Professor Dumbledore, until finally he had been assured that Lily Evans - Lily Potter (_Lily_ _Snape_, he thought) - was safe. Safe. Did that count for nothing?

And Potter. James Potter, who had always been clever and brave and _terrible_ … why didn't he _do_ anything? Why didn't he save her?

Severus would've saved her. He would've.

What's left now? There are the broken remains of an unneeded Order of the Phoenix, the members of which Severus never liked anyway; there are the Death Eaters with no leader; there is a life without Lily Potter. Nothing left. Nothing left for Severus Snape.

He thinks whimsical thoughts about if the Dark Lord or Lily had survived, but there's no space for speculations, what-ifs and yearning, because something has gone. Something important has left Severus, and he is utterly alone. Alone and crying and utterly unloved.

Alone, crying, utterly unloved, and waiting for Lily to come back to hold him. But she won't. Nothing can be fixed any more.

* * *

_Waiting no longer._

Lily's not waiting anymore. She is gone. Her mind scattered to every inch of the earth, brushing through the air, while her heart lies unbeating in her cold corpse, her fiery hair fading to grey, her green eyes long dulled.

She never got the things she waited for, and she never will.


End file.
